Murder for Choir (26 page)

I looked around to see what Devlyn thought. He wasn’t in his seat. I stood on my tiptoes and scanned the room. Devlyn was nowhere in sight.

Wait. I spotted him on the other side of the theater near an exit door. He was looking around the theater for something. Probably for me. After a few more glances around the room, he disappeared through the door.

A couple of adults climbed on the stage and helped the kids off as I searched for my own exit. It was time for Devlyn
and me to regroup in the hall. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed one of the women consoling teens was Felicia. Her own face was streaked with tears, but she looked calm and in control as she led several hysterical girls into the wings.

I slipped out a side door and headed to the front of the theater where we came in. No Devlyn. I peeked around the corner to see if he was hanging out by the door he exited.

Nope. No one. Personally, I was amazed the lobby was empty. After that performance, I would have thought people would be tripping over one another to get out before anyone else decided to sing.

Not sure what else to do, I went in search of the restrooms. Devlyn did have a lot of coffee at Millie’s.

The sign at the end of the red-carpeted hallway said to turn left. I was about to when I heard the sound of angry male voices coming from around the corner.

Strike that. Only one of the voices was angry, but he was pissed enough for the both of them.

“What the hell is going on? You told me this was going to work.”

“You have to give it time.”

Devlyn. My heart skipped as I froze in place.

“The first game of the season is next weekend against Lake Forest. I don’t want my ass handed to me right out of the gate. This is horseshit.”

I sucked in air as I recognized the belligerent voice. Coach Curtis Bennett.

“You have to give Drew time to get over the shock. That’s the only way my plan will work.”

“What shock? Greg Lucas is dead, and so is his pansy choir program. If Drew Roane doesn’t start showing up to practice, my football program might be history, too.”

“Trust me. Drew will be there.”

“He’d better be at practice on Monday like you promised,” Coach Bennett barked. He lowered his voice and added, “Otherwise, our deal is over, and I start spilling your dirty little secret. What do you think will happen to you then?”

Secret? What secret?

Uh-oh. I realized the voices had gone silent. Footsteps sounded on the carpet. They were coming in my direction. Clutching my purse, I booked down the hallway while glancing over my shoulder to make sure Devlyn or the coach didn’t see me. Neither was in sight as I rounded the corner and headed back inside the theater.

Heart pounding, I leaned against the wall and tried to catch my breath. On the stage, a tall, white-haired man in a charcoal suit was talking about Greg’s contributions to the music industry. At least, that was what I thought he said. My brain was fixated on what it had just heard in the hallway.

Devlyn had a secret.

Hell, Devlyn had a lot of secrets. When Devlyn mentioned Coach Bennett to me, he implied the man was someone he’d heard the gossip about but never personally dealt with. He’d lied, by misdirection if not by actual words. More important, Coach Bennett’s angry words made it clear Devlyn had promised that whatever plan they’d implemented would ensure Drew Roane dropped show choir and returned to the football team. From my way of thinking, it took a lot of guts for a star athlete to turn his back on his teammates in order to sing and dance with the show choir. Greg Lucas had helped the kid make that choice, and the kid went through with it. So what could Devlyn and Coach Bennett do to convince that kind of kid to do a one-eighty and return to football?

They could kill Greg Lucas.

My knees went weak and the world in front of me spun in and out of focus as the guy at the podium announced, “That is why the Choir Boosters are creating the Gregory Lucas Scholarship. Greg Lucas may be gone, but his ability to help kids fulfill their musical potential will live on.”

I barely registered the applause and cheering over the denial roaring in my head. Devlyn wasn’t the killer type. Not that I’d ever associated with killers, but still. The guy danced with me. He was trying to help me win over the kids. He was nice to my aunt. He’d even kissed me.

That kiss.

My stomach clenched. Could Devlyn have kissed me in order to get close to me? My ego wanted to believe he planted one on me because he felt unbridled passion for my unique combo of personality and looks. Gay didn’t mean a man couldn’t be attracted to a woman. Right?

Still, it could just be the man was after something—and it wasn’t my body.

Dana Lucas and her son climbed up onto the stage to shake the tall guy’s hand. Over the loudspeaker, music began to play. I knew that music. It was the song on Larry’s sock-drawer tape. The song Greg Lucas stole years ago, passed off as his own, and made a small fortune on.

Much of the audience started singing. Those who weren’t musically inclined were smiling through their tears and swaying to the music. When the song was over, the black and silver-sparkled show choir took the stage again for one last song—“Candle in the Wind.”

“Are you ready to get out of here?”

I jumped as Devlyn’s voice whispered in my ear.

“Shh.” Devlyn grabbed my hand and gave it a tug. When I didn’t budge, he whispered, “I heard something I think is important. Come on.”

My feet didn’t budge, but my heart hit high gear. A large knot formed in my throat, making it hard to breathe. A potential homicidal maniac wanted to get me alone. That was bad. Worse yet, I had no good excuse for why I wouldn’t go out the door with him.

“I want to hear the rest of this,” I lied. And boy was I lying. The song was a bigger disaster than the
Lion King
medley.

“Really?” Devlyn wasn’t fooled.

I needed a better excuse. “I thought I spotted Larry in the audience.” Devlyn stopped tugging on my arm and craned his neck to canvas the room. Score. “Can you see him?” I asked. “I thought I saw him down in front.” With so many people hugging and crying, getting a clear view of anyone down there was impossible. That bought me time.

The choir onstage belted out the final, off-key but very loud chord of the song as Devlyn walked a few feet to the right trying to get a better view of the fictitious Larry. As soon as the music ended, Dana took the podium once again. She thanked everyone for coming to celebrate her husband’s amazing life and announced a reception would be taking place afterward in the greenroom backstage. Half the audience sprang to their feet and headed for the exit, making it harder for Devlyn to get a clear look at the crowd.

Suddenly Devlyn focused on something, and his eyes narrowed. “Did you find him?” I asked, stunned that Larry might actually be in the crowd.

Devlyn shook his head. “No, but someone else just found us. And he doesn’t look happy about it.” Devlyn nodded toward the other side of the theater, where a less-than-enthusiastic Detective Mike was glaring at me. He crooked his finger and waited to see if I’d come as commanded.

Normally, I wouldn’t obey that kind of summons on principal,
but at the moment I was looking for any excuse to get away from a potential killer. I said, “You keep looking for Larry while I go talk to the detective.”

Devlyn waded into the crowd, and I bolted for the lobby. Detective Mike was waiting with his arms crossed in front of the main theater doors. The patrons leaving the theater took one look at his face and gave him a wide berth. The man was good at intimidating. Funny, but I’d never been so glad to see a pissed-off person in my entire life.

“I thought I asked you to stay home.” Mike uncrossed his arms and glared.

“Actually, you ordered me to stay home.”

“And?”

“And I didn’t listen.” I glanced at the people streaming out of the theater. Devlyn was nowhere in sight, but I was betting he’d give up his quest to find Larry soon and come looking for me. Call me crazy, but I didn’t want to be found. Through the fear, I tried to smile. “However, now that I’ve paid my respects, I’d be happy to go back to my aunt’s house. Can you give me a lift?”

Mike blinked. “You want a ride?”

“Devlyn is busy.” At least I hoped he stayed busy until I got the hell out of here. “He choreographed the musical at North Shore High School so he knows a lot of kids and parents here. Some of them have been asking for college advice.”

That sounded like it would take lots of time. Right? Better yet, I was telling the truth. No twitching eyebrow here—not that I believed it actually twitched.

Detective Mike stared at me. My muscles tightened with every passing second. I used ever ounce of willpower to keep from glancing at the people streaming through the theater door towards the post-memorial reception. Mike
scanned the room and signaled to a guy in a dark blue suit. Immediately, the guy zigzagged through the meandering mourners over to us.

“I’m going to escort Ms. Marshall home. Keep an eye out for Larry DeWeese, and call me if you see anything suspicious.” Mike turned to me. “Do you want to tell Mr. O’Shea that you’re leaving?”

Not even remotely. “I’ll text him.” I plastered a smile on my face and started walking.

Mike’s Mustang was parked in a loading zone near the front entrance. I raised an eyebrow, and he smiled as if daring me to question the morality of his parking practices. I would, but I really wanted to get out of here. Biting my lip, I climbed into the sweltering car and pulled out my phone. My sweaty fingers typed,
Being escorted home by Detective Kaiser. Keep looking for Larry. Call you later
, to Devlyn.

I hit send and leaned back as Mike cranked the air. Huh. Mike wasn’t kidding when he said the air-conditioning in my Cobalt was better. The air coming out of the vents was lukewarm at best.

Mike steered the car out of the parking lot. After a few minutes of silence he asked, “So what’s the real reason you were looking to get out of there?”

I opened my mouth to tell Mike about Devlyn and Coach Bennett’s hallway conversation. Then I stopped. I couldn’t do it. Not yet. Yes, it sounded suspicious, but something Devlyn said the other day stopped me. What if they weren’t guilty? Devlyn didn’t turn Greg Lucas in for hitting on a student because Greg might have been innocent. His career would have been ruined on the suspicion alone. Detective Mike wanted to catch the killer, and he wasn’t above making an innocent teenage kid look like a suspect in order to do it. What would he do if I told him about Devlyn and Coach Bennett’s conversation?
Did I have enough faith in my own investigatory skills to chance blowing Devlyn’s career out of the water with my suspicions alone?

No. No, I didn’t.

This sucked. I let out a sigh and improvised, “My near-death experience this morning made the whole celebrating the end of life thing too much for me to take.”

“I can see that.” Mike’s eyes flicked over my face before reaffixing to the road. “Are you sure that’s the only reason you wanted to leave?”

“What other reason is there?”

Detective Mike shot me a knowing glance. “Well, the two of us alone in my car seems like a pretty good reason to me.”

“What?” The man wasn’t making sense.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed.” He grinned. “I admire a woman who goes for what she wants. As a matter of fact, I want the same thing you do, especially after this morning. But I was serious when I said we can’t do anything about it until this case is closed.”

I went from confused to stunned to totally pissed off in two seconds flat. This arrogant son of a bitch thought I was looking for a naked tour of his backseat in addition to my ride home. In his world, being shot at was probably an aphrodisiac. In mine, it was a total buzzkill.

“You think I’m looking for a hookup?”

Mike glanced over at me, and his smile faded. “You’re not?”

“I think I have more important things to worry about.” I did my best to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. Mike’s wince told me I failed. Oh well.

Mike drove the rest of the way to Aunt Millie’s in silence. He looked uncomfortable with the situation. I wasn’t. The
quiet gave me time to think. Since turning Devlyn into the authorities with the information I currently had made me feel queasy, I needed an alternative plan. By the time Mike pulled up to Aunt Millie’s front door, I had one.

Not quite meeting my eyes, Mike gave me the requisite “stay inside and out of trouble line” before watching me unlock the door and close it behind me. Grateful to be in real air-conditioning, I locked the door and headed upstairs to my computer. I needed proof that Devlyn was up to no good, and from what I could tell only one person could give it to me.

Football dropout Drew Roane.

No cars were in the driveway at the Roane house. No one milled around the yard. I rang the bell. Yep—no one was home. I waited in my car for a while. When my butt went numb, I decided to call it quits and head home.

I walked into Millie’s with a McDonald’s bag filled with hamburgers and fries and jumped as Millie yelled, “There you are. I was starting to get worried. We have to do your hair and makeup or you’ll never be ready in time.” Millie grabbed my arm and pulled me up the stairs.